


i looked at you like the stars that shined

by iPhone



Series: now i see daylight [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children, F/F, First Meetings, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22927696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/pseuds/iPhone
Summary: Two moments between Beca and Chloe, three years apart.akathe first time they meet at five years old.
Relationships: Chloe Beale & Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: now i see daylight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625614
Comments: 40
Kudos: 176





	i looked at you like the stars that shined

**Author's Note:**

> this was something i had in my drafts - something that i wanted to share with you guys. as always much love to chloe and her willingness to share her ideas and listen to me ramble. always know that i will do the same for you! <3
> 
> let me know what you guys think and of course, what other things you might want to see in this universe :)
> 
> title from Taylor Swift's "Mary's Song"

**_May_ , Age 5**

Beca watches the impossibly large trees continue to pass her by until eventually they thin out and reveal a suburban neighbourhood.

Fewer trees. Smaller trees.

Houses that vary in size.

Beca tests the word out on her tongue.

“House,” she mumbles, pressing her nose against the window as best as she can, strapped into her booster seat. The seatbelt digs into her shoulder uncomfortably and she shifts, looking pleadingly towards the front of the car. “Mommy, are we there yet?”

“Almost, sweetie,” her mother replies, turning in her seat. She smiles at Beca’s bouncing knees. “Are you excited?”

Beca smiles, but she shrugs and giggles under her mother’s attention and quickly looks back out the window again.

“She’s totally excited, right Bec?” her father asks, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. It’s a secret smile they share. Beca likes the way he smiles at her as if they’re sharing a secret and she’s his favorite person.

“Right,” she says happily.

Despite that reassurance, Beca can’t quite quell the nerves. It feels like something she ought to be excited about—something that her parents have been talking about non-stop.

Beca sits up when she notices there is a girl playing on the lawn outside. She watches in envy, the way the girl kicks a soccer ball in the front yard. Beca tried that once a few weeks ago. She had fallen unexpectedly.

She frowns when an older boy rushes out of the house and quickly snatches up the ball from the front lawn. The girl’s high-pitched shriek sounds even through the glass window, reaching Beca’s ears unmistakably. She tries not to let her breath fog the pane as her parents pull into the driveway of the house next door.

“Look, Beca,” her father points out. “A new friend.”

Beca smiles, waiting patiently for her parents to unlock the car door so she can leap from the booster seat.

When she exits the car, she notices that the girl has stopped pouting from losing her soccer ball and is watching Beca with rapt attention. Beca is barely cognizant of noisy moving truck that pulls up behind their car as she steps hesitantly towards the other lawn. She looks up uncertainly at her mother, wondering if she can go over.

Before either of them can say anything, the girl, her red hair swinging in a loose ponytail, rushes over at an alarming speed. Behind her, Beca assumes her mother—similar red hair and all— darts out from the house, calling her name.

“Chloe Beale! You can’t just—”

Beca’s father laughs, gripping her shoulder. “It’s okay,” he calls. “Nice to meet you. We’re the Mitchells.”

The girl, Chloe, stops right in front of Beca, staring at her with eyes that burn with the intensity of the sun. Beca shrinks back, but watches Chloe curiously.

“What’s your name?” Chloe asks, clasping her hands in front of her, suddenly the vision of polite perfection. “I’m Chloe.”

“Beca.” Beca inhales, feeling more comfortable as seconds pass. “My name is Beca.”

Chloe nods, placing her hands on her hips before assessing Beca from head to toe. Beca shrinks, conscious of the fact that Chloe already looks taller than her. Before she can say anything or protest a potential joke or teasing phrase, Chloe dashes back to her home’s garage and there is a sharp clattering sound before Chloe’s high-pitched hasty apology.

Chloe rushes back, holding a mess of ropes in her hands.

“Chloe Beale,” her mother begins. "What are you doing?"

“Beca, come play,” Chloe urges, talking over her mother. Beca's eyes widen, glancing quickly at her own parents, but she sees no warning on their faces. Chloe, continuously disregarding the presence of the adults around them, holds out a second jump rope. “You can use the nice one.”

Beca holds the rope uncertainly. “The nice one?”

“The colours are pretty,” Chloe points out. Beca looks at the light blue rope in her hands with pink handles, then looks at the green and orange rope in Chloe’s hands.

“This one looks like…” Beca smiles shyly when she sees Chloe nodding at her encouragingly with her own wide eyes. “Eyes,” she finishes quickly when she realizes staring at Chloe directly is more nerve-inducing than she previously thought. “Your eyes.”

Chloe looks delighted and quickly grabs on to Beca’s wrist. “You’re so nice! Let’s play under the tree.”

As they leave, Beca overhears Chloe’s mother laugh and say to her own parents, “Our Chloe. Never shy, this one.”

Her parents say something in response, but Beca misses it, almost tripping over her shoelaces when she and Chloe stumble across the grass.

Beca tests the word out in her mind. _Shy_ , she tries. Her mouth barely moves around the word itself as she tries to sound it out.

_Am I shy?_

Nervous, suddenly, she quickly looks to see if Chloe is watching her. She watches Chloe focus intently on untangling the rope, tongue caught between her teeth.

Chloe is not shy, she figures. Chloe is nice and happy and friendly. Beca wants all those things too. She wants to be those things.

Chloe Beale is nice.

Beca finds that she _likes_ her—Chloe’s bright eyes and her easy smile. She is welcoming, warm, and everything that Beca could ever want in a friend.

Slowly, Beca mimics her actions, untangling the rope and waiting for Chloe to catch up.

* * *

**_May_ , Age 8**

Beca learns quickly that being friends with Chloe means that Chloe will never leave her behind. She vows similarly to do the same, even if she never voices that aloud.

Chloe is special. She’s certain of it.

But being special isn’t even something that Beca herself fully understands. Beca isn’t sure what it all means at five years old (“almost six!” Chloe’s voice sounds in her ears), but she knows that Chloe makes everything easier. She quells the nerves, she quells the nagging uncertainty, she quells the flare-ups of insecurity.

She also defends Beca valiantly and without fail each time.

Like when they’re seven. Beca becomes more aware of Chloe’s impact in her life when she turns seven and Chloe helped her with her clay models when Jacob from their class smashed them “accidentally” and Beca had spent most of the afternoon crying.

“I’m not leaving you,” Chloe had declared then. “Let me help.”

Or now—at eight years old and sweating under the unforgiving sun. Nervous glances as her classmates wonder who will be picked last.

Beca knows it’ll probably be her. She’s not good at kickball—it requires far too much coordination and she doesn’t like how small she feels when the boys in her class grin at her and launch the ball far too hard in her direction.

She waits for Chloe to inevitably be picked first, but startles when Chloe refuses to move when Carl calls her name.

Chloe lifts her chin, pointedly grabbing Beca’s hand. “We’re a pair,” she says stubbornly.

Their teacher pinches the bridge of his nose as snot-nosed Carl crosses his arms next to him. He’s one of the first in their grade to turn _9_ so he thinks it makes him more important than them. One year closer to _ten_. The unspoken awe of the double digits.

“I don’t want her,” Carl says stubbornly.

Beca flinches. “Chloe, it’s okay,” she rushes to whisper. “I’ll just—”

“No, he’s being a jerk!”

“Chloe!” their teacher gasps. “Language, Ms. Beale.”

Chloe, who never had a very good grasp on her emotions, begins to pout in a way that, Beca knows from experience, represents an impending temper tantrum. It seems like Carl senses it too and he immediately caves, fearful of getting on Chloe’s bad side, despite the rarity of such an occurrence.

“Fine,” he shouts quickly. “I pick Chloe and Beca. Both of them.”

“That’s two picks,” Valerie, the other team captain points out quickly with a gleeful grin. “Does that mean I get two as well?”

Carl shrugs despite his pout and refuses to look at Chloe and Beca as Chloe pulls Beca along by her hand to stand on his side of the field.

Beca looks at the ground, thoroughly embarrassed and much warmer than before. “You didn’t have to feel bad for me,” she murmurs to Chloe once the rest of team-picking continues on without interruption. "It's _fine_." 

Chloe nudges her with her shoulder, forcing Beca to look up from where she’s scuffing her white shoes against the ground, getting them dirtier. “I don’t feel bad for you,” Chloe says lightly and cheerfully.

"Really," Beca says with doubt lining her voice.

“You’re like...so good at running. We need you! I want to win too, okay?”

Beca blushes right to the tips of her ears, which she totally blames on the heat. “Okay,” she agrees, smiling. “Thank you, Chlo.”

"I'm good at kicking, you're good at running, maybe we just work well together."

If anything, that makes Beca blush more furiously than before. She quickly gathers her wits and tries not to smile. "I don't think that's how kickball works. We'd have to be...like the same person."

"It makes sense to me," Chloe replies. She then beams at Beca, as brightly as she had on that first day and over the past three years.

Chloe smiles like she thinks Beca is the most incredible person she knows at eight years old.

Maybe Beca finally believes it.


End file.
